


The first step is the hardest

by alixintooblivion



Series: Blossom Farm [1]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Capitalism sucks, Depression, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Inheritance, toxic parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23117968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alixintooblivion/pseuds/alixintooblivion
Summary: Dana Miller is slowly losing every last bit of hope she still has left due to a difficult job and family life. Could her Grandpa's last gift help her?
Series: Blossom Farm [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661716
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	The first step is the hardest

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I've decided to write a fanfiction about my Stardew Valley OC. I'm also going to project many of my personal issues onto my characters, because it's cheaper than therapy.
> 
> This series will be sad at times and will deal with themes of difficult / toxic parents, depression, and mental illness. I completely understand if you'd prefer to stick with lighter themes and if you'd rather not read it.
> 
> If you enjoy it, please leave a comment!

Dana pressed her forehead against the trolley’s window, watching the neon lights flash by, turning off one by one as the dawn rose. She tried not to think about anything. She wasn’t even at work yet, and she already felt like she was going to cry. It seemed amazing to her that behind the lit windows she could see as the trolley ineluctably took her towards her destination were actual people, who might even be happy, for all she knew. She felt like she had forgotten how to feel joy a long time ago; she’d forgotten how to feel anything. Even now, commuting to her dreary, mind-numbingly dull job, the only thing she felt was some sort of dull ache, a sadness she couldn’t quite put into words.

During her lunch break, which she took at her desk to make the most of her allotted fifteen minutes, Dana managed to identify that peculiar feeling. She felt like a loser. She’d botched her studies, she was still living at home at twenty-four, and the only job that accepted to hire her was a minimum-wage one in at JoJaCorp, where no one cared who you were or what you were feeling as long as you were productive. And she genuinely tried her best to be. But no matter what, it never made her feel better.

She threw away the empty sandwich bag and rubbed her eyes, sighing. Only two minutes before she had to get back to work. Maybe she’d get sick on the way home, if someone coughed on her in the trolley, she thought hopefully. She’d have to deal with her mother’s nagging if she took a sick day, but it was still better than being at work and feeling like her spirit was being slowly suffocated. Only one minute now. Thirty seconds. The clock turned to one o’clock, the buzzer sound ordered the employees to get back to work, but Dana didn’t move. She let out a shaky sigh, fighting back against another wave of sadness that almost made her tear up. _Come on, get back to work. Get back to work, idiot, you can’t afford to lose this job. Come on, do it._ With much effort, she managed to put her hands on the keyboard and mouse, but she still couldn’t bring herself to open her files and get back to the number crunching she was supposed to do. Instead, she sat back, and opened the drawer she kept her handbag, opened it, and took out her good luck charm.

It was an old-fashioned, slightly yellowed envelope, sealed with purple wax. Dana had received it more than ten years before, from her Grandpa. It had been his last gift, and just like she’d promised him, she hadn’t opened it.

Grandpa Miller, her father’s father, had passed away when she was thirteen. On his deathbed, he’d announced his last will in front of the whole family, and bequeathed his possessions to his two sons and four grandchildren. Dana, the youngest, had been called last, and had received the fateful envelope. But it was Grandpa’s wish that she didn’t open it yet; in fact, his instructions had been so strange that she’d never forgotten his words. “There will come a day when you feel crushed by the burden of modern life, and your bright spirit will fade before a growing emptiness. When that happens, you’ll be ready for this gift.” She hadn’t quite understood what he had meant back then; she’d only known that inside the envelope, a very special gift from her beloved Grandpa was waiting to rescue her from the emptiness. She’d waited until the right time.

Dana examined the envelope closely. Truthfully, she knew why she’d been carrying that around for the last few weeks; this was it. She’d never felt as empty as she did, and she couldn’t fathom waiting for it to get worse before opening it; if it did get any worse, she’d lose all will to get up in the mornings and it would be much too late for any mystery gift to help. It was time, she decided with renewed determination. She needed to be rescued. The first piece of paper she unfolded was a letter. Her Grandpa’s penmanship made her tear up again, and she forced herself to calm down and to focus on the words.

“Dear Dana,

If you’re reading this, you must be in dire need of a change. The same thing happened to me, long ago. I’d lost sight of what mattered to me in life… real connections with other people and nature. So I dropped everything and moved to the place I truly belong.

I’ve enclosed the deed to that place… my pride and joy: Blossom Farm. It’s located in Stardew Valley, on the southern coast. It’s the perfect place to start your new life. This was my most precious gift of all, and now it’s yours.

I know you’ll honor the family name, my dear. Good luck.

Love, Grandpa.”

True to Grandpa’s words, the second sheet of paper was the notarized deed to the farm. She examined it, heart pounding in her chest, re-reading the letter several times, until she was sure she wasn’t dreaming.

For a few wonderful seconds, it seemed possible. She was convinced that she could just take her stuff, walk out and never come back. She could go back home to pack her suitcase and take the first bus in the morning and move into her new home. She could leave all of this and never look back.

Then the sound of her supervisor’s heels stopping by her cubicle snapped her back to reality.

“What are you doing, Miss Miller?” Mrs Grigno asked with poisonous sweetness.

“O-oh, sorry, I got a bit distracted,” Dana apologized, hurriedly stuffing the papers and envelope into her drawer. “Sorry. I’ll get back to work immediately.”

“See that you do.”

Mrs Grigno stood there for a few minutes, ensuring that Dana did indeed get back to her numbers, which she did with a heavy heart. For a few seconds, she’d thought she could escape this.

She decided to get off the trolley one stop before her usual, to give herself some time to think in peace. Grandpa had predicted that she’d one day be stuck in the daily grind and dissatisfied with it, and that she’d want to escape it. But it wasn’t as if Dana could just walk out on her problems and abandon everything. She’d never farmed a day in her life! Besides, the farm had been abandoned for more than a decade. Who knew what state it was in by now?

It used to be Dana’s favourite place in the world, that tiny farmhouse surrounded by the woods, every inch of arable land fought for by her Grandpa in an unending battle against the regrowing forest. She remembered playing with her brother and cousins between the trees, swimming in the big pond, exploring the rows of crops under Grandpa’s watchful eye, Grandpa with his muddy overalls, his fluffy beard, his booming laugh... Grandpa…

The happy memories, the good times they shared, the love she had for him came back to hit her all of a sudden; she couldn’t repress the tears any longer. If only she could leave, and go back to that beautiful farm, and be happy again. If only it were that easy.

She’d stopped crying by the time she arrived home, though she was still upset. Her mother was reading a magazine in the living room. “I’m home, Mom.” Her mother acknowledged that she’d heard her with a hum; Dana peeked into the kitchen to see that her father was back home as well. “Hi, Dad.”

“Hi, Danie,” he said, distracted during his evening crosswords. “How was your day? Oh, your eyes are all red,” he worried when he looked up. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Dana lied. “I was just thinking about Grandpa, that’s all.” Her father smiled sadly.

“I still miss him, too,” he said. “But I know he’s looking out for us where he is now. And he’d be very proud of you.”

 _Would he?_ Dana wondered, walking to her room. She didn’t think she’d done much to be proud of. And Grandpa probably wouldn’t have admired her struggle to be half-decent at a stupid, useless office job, would he? Of all her grandchildren, she’d been the only one interested in the farm life; she’d spent years proudly announcing to everyone that she’d be a farmer too someday, before her mother told her that farming was extremely difficult and made very little money. Dana was sure that Grandpa had always had hope that she’d actually take up the mantle someday. But it was too late. She was too weak to even try.

That daydream did not leave her mind for the rest of the week, however. She’d be grocery shopping, and find herself thinking about what kind of food you’d eat if you needed a lot of energy to till a field. She would start to wonder what kind of crops she’d like to grow as she stared blankly at the wall of numbers on her computer screen. She would desperately wish that she were in that pretty farmhouse in the woods as she choked on exhaust fumes when she was walking home. A new feeling was blossoming inside her chest. She was angry at herself.

At some point in her life, she’d given up on bettering her life. Maybe it had been when she’d realised that her family would never be the close-knit, loving group that some other kids seemed to have. Maybe it had been when she dropped out of community college because the law course she’d been enrolled in was staring to give her nightmares and panic attacks. Maybe it had been when after eight months of job-searching, she’d resigned herself to accept the job offer at JoJaCorp, even though it meant that she’d have a two-hour commute every day which would siphon the majority of her paycheck and that she’d be staring at meaningless streams of numbers for ten hours every day. Some of it was due to bad luck, some of it was due to her apathy. At some point, she’d stopped trying, because the idea of failure hurt her more than her difficult circumstances. She’d failed at a lot of things, and the guilt had never lessened; it was much easier not to try anything and tolerate whatever came her way instead of trying to change her life.

But now, Dana couldn’t tolerate any more. She couldn’t continue those twelve-hour days that left her wishing she were home sick with the flu rather than at her desk. She couldn’t continue to endure those family dinners where Dana and her parents ate pre-packaged meals in complete silence. She couldn’t endure another second knowing that the only thing between her and her Grandpa’s wish to see her in his old farm was her own cowardice. She was going to leave. She was going to quit her job, pack her bags, and move to Pelican Town. It was time to pull herself up by her bootstraps.

She waited until Sunday to announce her decision. She wanted her brother to be present, too; they weren’t really friends, but they respected each other, and she could always count on Kenny to give his honest opinion when needed. Dana waited until dessert to clear her throat, causing the three of them to look up.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she said. “Uh… Do you remember when Grandpa Miller passed away and he gave all of us something in inheritance?”

“Yeah, what about it?” Kenny said.

“Well, I don’t know if you remember, but he gave me a sealed envelope. And I opened it recently.” Her heart was pounding, and her vision was swimming from how nervous she was. “I’ve been given the deed to Blossom Farm.”

“No way! Really?” her father said, grinning. “So that’s what he did with that old thing!”

“That’s wonderful, Dana!” her mother beamed. She smiled. “Have you put it up for sale yet?”

“Er, what? No,” Dana said, taken aback. “Actually –”

“Wait a second, Denise,” her father protested. “Why would we sell my old man’s farm? It’s where I grew up!”

“Don’t be silly, we can’t let such a large property sleep. We could pay back our mortgage with that money, maybe even buy a new car…”

“Wait a minute,” Dana interrupted. “I don’t think you understand. The deed is in _my_ name, Mom, and I’m not selling the farm. I’m going to move there and become a farmer.”

The silence that fell was heavier than any Dana had ever heard before. Then, like a slow-motion shot, she saw her mother roll her eyes, then scoff as she threw her spoon into her plate in disgust.

“Don’t be stupid,” she said. “You’re not going to do such an idiotic thing, now that you’ve finally got a job.”

“I wasn’t asking for your permission,” Dana said, wishing her voice wouldn’t sound that shrill. “I’ve already decided that I’m going to do it.”

“Dana, be reasonable,” her father said. “You’ve never done anything like that before, you can’t just… leave and hope it will work out. It’s not how it works.”

Kenny was smiling. “She always did say that she wanted to be a farmer, though,” he pointed out. “I think it’s a cool idea. It would be a shame to sell Grandpa’s farm and let it be turned into a parking lot or another JoJaMart.”

“Don’t encourage your sister, Kenneth,” their mother said in an icy tone. “You’re supposed to be the more responsible one.”

“I mean, she doesn’t have much to lose,” Kenny went on. “It’s not like she’d be investing any money; the land is already hers.”

Denise sighed, pursing her lips in a way that plainly told of her disapproval. “Dana, I won’t let you throw your life away like this,” she said. “We’ll sell the farm, and then you can buy a car, and you’ll have an easier time getting around. Won’t that be nice?”

“Mom, I said no,” Dana said. “I’m leaving next Sunday. I’ve already put in my resignation.” Her mother gasped in horror.

“Calm down, Mom,” Kenny said, sounding a little more reasonable. “It’s not the end of the world. Besides, Dana can do whatever she wants with her inheritance.”

“If anything goes wrong, she can still sell it,” their father gently points out. “There’s no harm in trying. Besides, you know that my father always wanted someone to live on the farm after he passed.”

“But what if she can’t find another job when she comes back?” her mother protested, now tearing up. “You’ll have another gap in your resume!” she tells her.

“Well, I can deal with that in the moment, if it happens,” Dana said, a little defensively. “I want to try, Mom. I’ve never tried anything, ever. I’ve got to start living my own life.”

“You are living your own life!”

“I’m surviving,” Dana corrected. “I’m trying to be productive, trying to make money, trying to make it to the next day. And if I go on like this, I’ll be old before I can even do anything interesting with my life.”

“Are you saying that your father and I’s lives are meaningless?” her mother accused.

“She didn’t say anything like that,” Kenny pointed out.

“All I’m saying is that this kind of life isn’t for me,” Dana went on before her mother could intervene again. “I think I’ll be happier farming. I want to try it.”

There were more tears. More arguments. More emotional blackmail. More threats. But nothing her mother said could sway Dana: she’d made a decision for the first time in her life, and she was going to stick to it.


End file.
